


Sleep

by KalikaBarlow



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (2014)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:28:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KalikaBarlow/pseuds/KalikaBarlow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He always looked so peaceful when he slept.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleep

He always looked so peaceful when he slept. It almost seemed completely ridiculous to think that anything about him could ever seem relaxed and serene, but there he was. Ronan the Accuser, Kree judge of the world Xandar, was passed out flat on his back, head tilted to one side, lips slightly parted, his chest rising and falling with each entirely silent breath.  
  
The sheets were pooled around his waist, disclosing the sharp ridges of cobalt musculature and hinting at what lay beneath. She had turned onto her side to fully appreciate the towering form of the alien warlord, normally hidden beneath layers of armour. He looked like he had been carved out of the bluest marble. All the rage and hatred normally present on his face had faded to nothing as he slept, sweat still clinging to his skin. She could smell him from here, a potent combination of metal, his own natural musk and something smoky, almost like burning coals.  
  
Leaning over, she brushed her lips over one pectoral, breathing him in as deeply as she was able.  
  
“You’re not sleeping.”  
  
She paused in her gentle ministrations at the low rumble of his voice. He hadn’t moved, nor had his eyes opened, but his lips had curved slightly. She smirked at him.  
  
“Can’t. Achy.”  
  
The violet eyes opened then to survey her, almost glowing with an entirely artificial ethereal light. “You were...ill behaved,” he replied. “Your punishment had to suit your crime.”  
  
In return, she scrunched up her nose at him, threw a leg over him to sit astride him, and poked him square in the chest.  
  
“I beat you.”  
  
“I let you win.”  
  
“Did not!”  
  
He clamped his hands down on her thighs, gripping with just enough force to silence her but not to bruise. This time. Normally her skin was blossoming with evidence of his rough ways. He claimed she bruised easily, and his grip was not to blame.  
  
She thought otherwise, and made it known by how hard she bit him when they copulated. Or when they _fucked_ , as she preferred to refer to it as. The word was beginning to grow on him. He liked the way it flushed her cheeks and dilated her pupils when he said it, when he breathed it into her ear when anyone else could be listening. The thrill of being caught was something he had ascertained that she loved, and it made him very favourable to her when he initiated it.  
  
“You _did_ _not_ win,” he enunciated slowly, massaging her thighs. “I let you win, so that you would be pliable.”  
  
She rolled her eyes at him, leaning down to run her fingers across his skull, pressing her breasts against his chest in a move that was both strategic and oddly comforting.  
  
“That’s what every girl wants to hear, Ronan. Pliable. You let me win so I’d fuck you, is that it?” He smirked up at her, moving his hands around to cup handfuls of her voluptuous ass.  
  
“I enjoy being fucked by you. You are so...soft, and yet hard. You swear and you curse, but then you beg and plead for more.” He lowered his voice, breathing into her ear. “Even when it hurts, you always want more.” His teeth nipped at her earlobe. “Greedy creature.”  
  
She hissed, arching her body against his and jerking away from his teeth. “I’m not your creature, Ronan. I don’t need to be appeased by winning, just to be coaxed into your bed.”  
  
“You need no coaxing,” he reassured her. “You need only reason. And when you do beat me, when you win,” he pushed her down his body slightly, pressing the evidence of his arousal up against her, “you do enjoy something of a victory dance.”  
  
She shuddered pleasantly at the feeling of his cock between her legs, the sheet the only thing between them. Almost entirely subconsciously, she began grinding herself over the length of him, dampening the thin material that separated them.  
  
“And how do I normally do this ‘victory dance’ you speak of?” She asked breathlessly.  
  
His grip tightened, meeting her desperate movements with his own. “Normally? Normally, you perform it by sitting astride me, as you are now. With the only difference being that your deliciously tight cunt is ‘normally’ impaled upon me.”  
  
She shivered visibly at his words, lips parting in a needy whine that pierced his very soul and awakened the beast within him. He grabbed her firmly and rolled her beneath him, pulling the sheet aside and sinking into her with a grunt, his upper lip flattening against his teeth. “No more sleep, my Terran pet,” he hissed, hiking one of her legs over his shoulder and thrusting harshly inside, relishing her cry of ecstasy. “No more sleep.”


End file.
